


Too Close To Me

by Scrollypoly



Series: Soulless Computer Boy [1]
Category: BEN Drowned, Creepypasta - Fandom, Marble Hornets, Slender: The Arrival
Genre: A bit more related to Marble Hornets, Body Horror, Enemies to Friends, Friends With Benefits, Haunting, I honestly don't even know, Kate and Lauren are sisters here, Kate somehow managed to escape the Operator, Lucid Dreaming, Maybe to Lovers? Jk . . . Unless?, Multi, Night Terrors, Nonbinary Protagonist, Paranoia, Protag is a Witch, Slender is being called the Operator, Slow Burn, Stalking, more characters will come in later parts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22443361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrollypoly/pseuds/Scrollypoly
Summary: "Or," a snide grin shakes across her face, "maybe its cursed." I scoff. "Or haunted!" Her fingers waggle menacingly towards me."Yeah, okay so. I go onto someone's 'Retro Gaming Etsy Store' and pick up an ancient spirit trapped inside a children's game." She looks at me inquiringly. "I think somethin would've happened if that was the case babe.""Hey, maybe something did happen. And you just missed it cause you're a dum dum."
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Series: Soulless Computer Boy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615009
Kudos: 6





	1. One

“You’re kidding!” I stifle a gasp, squatting in front of the glass case holding the console of my dreams. It’s about 10 minutes before we have to open, so we have time to be more unprofessional. I smudge my hands all over the glass.

My manager for the morning, Suzanna, laughs and stands next to me. “We got that in last night. Had a feeling you would be interested.”

“Hell yeah I am,” I breathe out, mostly focused on the beauty of a Nintendo sitting mere inches away from, and not the chuckles from my manager behind me. But now she’s behind the counter and pulling out the system.

“I can always ask Norah if you wanna buy it, especially since you missed the sale last night.” My lips stretch so wide it kinda hurts. She starts walking to the back; I don’t register what she’s doing.

“Wait!” My hand strikes the counter and she turns. We open in 5 minutes “Can you even do that?” I don’t care really, but it feels right to hesitate a bit.

“Course I can! I’m a manager.” She looks at me like it’s the most obvious thing ever before flouncing away behind the office door with my beauty safe in her grasp. Huh.

15 minutes later, she comes back. There’s only one person in the store. “Norah said yes.” After she leaves, I shake out a quick happy dance behind the counter, unable to contain my excitement. The customer stares at me.

The end of my shift rolls buy. I hand $35 plus tax to the cashier replacing me and strut out of the store with my purchase. A whole ass Nintendo 64. Now to get it home without my mother noticing. Tucking it oh so gently into the back seat of my Jeep, I clamber behind the wheel and start home. When I pull in the driveway, it’s empty. Perfect. I slipped inside with my backpack and shopping bag and dash into my room, shoving it into my closet. Our dog, Buddy, barely looks up from where he’s laying on the floor, too engrossed in his nap to care about my current frenzy. Not even thirty seconds later, the garage door opens.

My Mother, Lauren Hale, walks in the door. She looks only slightly disheveled, which usually meant a good day at work. I leave my room and meet her in the kitchen. “Hi mom,” she near automatically leans down to kiss my forehead, “How was work?”

“Long, but bearable. You?”

“Fine.” She doesn’t suspect a thing.

It’s been two weeks since I snuck that console in my closet. I vowed not to pull it out until I find a couple games for it. The last thing I need is Mom freaking out about me buying ‘another worthless game’, so it’s easier to just not touch it. But finding games seems to be another story entirely.

“Why is everything $40?” A yawn sneaks unbidden into the air and I grumble out something incomprehensible. My head rolls to work out the kinks, and the movement makes Buddy look up at me. “Sorry dude,” I scratch him behind the ears, “But they shouldn’t be that expensive.” He rumbles in what seems to be contentment and rolls further into my lap. I manage to successfully stifle the next yawn. The clock in the corner of my screen says 2:33 am. I flick back through my opened tabs; as expected, none of the ridiculous price tags have changed. I sag back onto my bed and shut my eyes.

For a few minutes, precious silence envelopes the room. It would be a good time to sleep; I roll onto my side. Buddy shifts so he’s next to me and carries on snoozing. A small ping echoes out.

Ignore it, I think, and it’s a wonderful idea, until it pings again. And again.

“Fine,” my voice comes out all rough and gravelly and ~~hey that’s kinda sexy~~. One of my tabs has a small green dot on it. I guess one of the sellers I contacted is actually awake at this hour.

A.H. _: Actually, I do have some games for that console in good physical condition. If you’re interested I can negotiate a price?_

Interesting, interesting. What’s the harm? I tap out a response, half awake and hoping I don’t sound like it. Funny, we have the same initials.

A.H. _: Sure, what all do you have?_

An image attachment comes through with a message, promptly ignored in favor of downloading the photo. It shows a small assortment of cartridges on what looks like a bedspread. Super Mario, Banjo Kazooie, Majora’s Mask, and a couple of racing games that I don't care to look at. I inquire about the first 3.

A.H. _: How much for the first 3 games?_  
A.H. _: I've been trying to get rid of them for a while, how about $5 each?_

What were the odds?

A.H. _: Deal. What about shipping? I kinda live in the middle of nowhere._

The reply is almost too quick.

A.H. _: Free. I just want to get rid of them._

  
Fine, okay, no problem. I thank him for the offer and place the order; finally crawling under the covers for some much needed rest.

They come in a week later. I'm setting the bridge on an old violin (another impulse buy from work) when Mom walks in with my package? “What’s this?”

“Violin parts,” It’s a surprisingly convenient lie, considering what I am doing, and she leaves without fuss. Faster than lightning, the console is out, plugged in, and starting up with Mario 64.

It runs like a dream. I just run in circles around the garden, reliving earlier childhood as I hop and slide around. The castle is especially nostalgic; when I hear that music I want to soar. After a bit I stop myself and plug in Banjo Kazooie. I never played this one actually, but I still get that warm fuzzy feeling with the music and graphics. Now Zelda.

I’ve always loved Zelda games, but I haven’t played the N64 games. I really wanted it to run well. It didn’t.

Well, it does at first. The opening music is fantastic, in that staticy 8-bit way. But there's a save file. The other games had been wiped, but this one?

“BEN?” I read it off, unsure. Must’ve been the previous owner, maybe Mr. A.H. forgot to wipe the data. Either way it doesn’t feel right to play it, so I delete it and start a new one. Not his game anymore. It plays normally until I reach Clocktown. Then the music goes . . . off? I can’t place it, it's like it flipped or something. But Link still runs around fine, I do a few side quests no problem, get a couple of masks and get to the end of the three days, go up the tower and . . .

Link just bursts into flames. I jump a bit and freeze, Buddy startles when I do and runs from the room. What in the world? The game respawns back to the tower and I pause for a bit. I climb it again. Link screams out as the polygonal fire consumes him once more. Can he even just combust like this in normal gameplay? Perhaps a fire dungeon, but why in the prologue of the damn game? My hand clenches around something, and I look down to see that I'm clutching my necklace.

Thinking maybe the game was just frustrated or something, I save and go back to the title screen before going to the kitchen for a glass of water. Coming back I sit down and take a long drink. The ice makes it really cold, and it almost hurts as I hold the water in my mouth and press start. I swallow. My new save was gone. That old save file was back the first slot, right where I deleted it before.


	2. Two

"Damn you look like shit."

My deadpanned stare shuts Garret, one of my coworker, up pretty quick, and he goes back to stocking the shelf with a snicker.

"Yeah I haven't been getting sleep." I bite back a yawn and shuffle some picture frames around. It was a slow night, thank god, and only 1 person is shopping at the moment. "Probably the game was a bad idea."

He glances at me, "Don't you know sleep is for the week?" I pause for a moment, then smack him. He just laughs. "I thought you stopped with the late night gaming?"

"I'm not in class now though. Plenty of time to stay up late." If only it was actual gaming, that would be nice, not the nightmare fuel that I witnessed last week. It's making me feel paranoid, not knowing what the hell that was.

"I thought you were nocturnal though?" He quirks an eyebrow at me. "Aren't you used to this? You already look like a vampire."

"Ha." True I was already pale as fuck and my natural hair is dark, and I tend to get sunburnt in about 5 minutes flat. It's not my fault. The dark circles probably don't help though.

"What's this about vampires? I hope y'all are talking about the Halloween decorations." Our manager for the night, Marcus, stopps at the end of the aisle and pops his foot on the shelf.

"Nope just Miss Morticia here." I groan and put another frame up before leaving the aisle.

"Call me back when you find better names, I got a customer." I go over to the man waiting by the register and ring up his items. When he leaves, there's no one else in the store.

"We still got an hour before we close," Marcus pipes in, sighing boredly.

All three of us walk over to the kids section and begin siphoning through the toys to find some entertainment. Marcus manages to find a nerf gun and shoots us a couple times, but it's not fair if we can't find any. So we end up sitting on the floor, still bored. Garret swipes a finger on the concrete and inspects it. "Floor could be swept, I guess. Miss witch?"

"Ha ha. I've swept the past week. Amazing I haven't gotten a sinus infection yet."

"I'll do it," Marcus pipes in, and we both give him sweet angel smiles. "Oh don't look at me like that, you two still have things to do."

"I guess I'll go clean out the dressing rooms then." I grab a broom and dustpan before Garret can protest and head to the back of the building.

The light over the two stalls flickers ominously; the building isn't that old, but it feels like it's in shambles sometimes. I begin to sweep them out, chasing a harvestman spider around with the broom Once the floor is relatively clean, I kneel by the door to clean off the mirror. As I spray it and wipe it down, I look at my reflection.

I do look like shit. The dark circles under my eyes have gotten darker, and show up easily through my foundation. They're puffy too, like I've been crying, even though I haven't. My hair looks unkempt and messy, and not in its usual styled way. I'm pale and washed-out; I look like I haven't been eating. I've been feeling too sick to eat, the stomach aches that plagued my school years coming back from the stress. Lack of sleep and paranoia. All from a damn game.

Sighing, I get off my knees. Something drips into my hair. I run my hands through it and find a spot of what I hope is water. Looking up reveals nothing, no leak or condensation on any vents. Another drop, it's cold and drips through to my scalp, running down my neck. I look behind me and see a small trail of water drops on the ground with wet shoe prints, going around the end of the aisle and up behind me. There's no one there. I feel like I'm gonna be sick.

I'm done with the dressing rooms. My chest tightens up as I speed walk to the back room, I breathe a bit harder to try and loosen up.I pass Marcus as he locks the doors, and Garret, who I think is stocking the drink coolers. The double doors swing open soundlessly as I enter the backroom. I stop by our pricing desk and drop to my feet. The icy feeling of panic is still stirring in my stomach and I realized I stopped breathing on my walk. I try again to take deep breaths, trying not to think of the fact that someone, or something, was hovering over me without me or anyone else noticing. There wasn't even a reflection in the mirror! I hiccup. I don't notice when Garret walks back here and sees me. I don't hear him when he calls for me, or feel when he nudges me a bit. My head is ringing.

Panic is a foreign emotion to me now. I was used to it in high school, where I ran off of my anxiety and stress. But therapy drilled that out of me, and while it's great all the time, the times I do panic are worse now. I've forgotten how to cope. I try to remember how, starting to count sheep, numbers, anything in my head.

My breathing is haphazard and hallowed when someone takes me by my shoulders and gently leans me up straight. It's Marcus. He's saying something I can't hear right now. "I'm fine," I manage, feeling very not fine. My head still sounds like it's blaring sirens.

"N an- . . -out, in and out, in and out. Are you there? Aubrey?" His voice is low and calm, easy to focus on. I start nodding, up and down, in and out, in and out. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"There wa- no, it was nothing." An eyebrow juts up in scrutiny. "Really I just," my breathing is too heavy to speak. I stop and force myself to slow down. "I've just been really paranoid lately, and no sleep and all." He doesn't seem convinced. "I've been off my meds. I need to get them refilled."

That seems to work. Garret walks back in with a water bottle. When did he leave? "Do you need one of us to take you home?"

"Nah, I'll be fine." I sound so out of breath, "I'll take the back roads."

The drive home is short, thankfully, and dark. The trees in my neighborhood look like spidery shadows lurching out onto the road. I'm too paranoid. The driveway is shrouded, the porch lights seemingly dimmer than usual.

I blink and I'm inside. Again, my room. I don't think until I'm undressed and standing under hot water, every action falling into autopilot. I didn't see anything in the mirror at all. I don't think I heard anything either. Just the water. I'm about to scrub some shampoo in my hair, but the second the spray hits my head I flinch and spiral. I get out and run a towel over my hair, flopping into bed. I don't want to sleep, but I close my eyes anyway.

.

…

I feel like I'm being watched.

I sit up and flick my lamp on. There's no one in my room, not even my pup. I get up and dig through my dresser drawers, pulling out a small tea light candle. On my desk is a salt lamp vessel; I light it and drop it in, making sure it goes in right, before crawling back into bed and turning my lamp off.

The candle casts soft shadows that dance around my room. I lean against my headboard and admire the gentle glow of the salt. For a moment, I close my eyes.

System Startup

User Login Successful!

Downloading files . . .

_unknown_user_ found. Delete?  Y  N

error found

Downloading new file . . .

Open new file?  Y  N

  
  
  


_I wake up at moonrise. Her beams lay across the green drifting around me, and for a moment I'm in peace. Then the chains rattle around my wrists._

_Underwater, everything is sluggish. The drag of my head as it tilts downwards towards my arms. The flow of my dark hair covering my eyes, my face. The jerk of my hands behind my back. I should be panicking. But I feel like this is normal now._

_She continues to shine above the surface, even as the current distorts her. Uneven moonlight curtains on my face and I close my eyes just to bask in her. How serene . . ._

_. . . Until a thrashing of bubbles distracts me._

_Someone splashes into my water, ungraceful, loud. A loud ker-_ fumph! _of a splash rattles the surface around me and a pale figure sinks towards me._

_W a i t_

_It struggles to move its hands through the water, and kicks furiously to drag itself lower._

_B e q u i e t_

_It, no she, she stops and writhes, before kicking back up for a breath of air and dropping back down. The chains slacken just enough._

_J u s t w a t c h_

_She pushes further, soft blonde hair gliding behind her. Her hands reach for something dainty, shiny._

_I take it, and lift it to her hand._

_Bright green eyes see me for only a moment. I push the necklace up to her, catching her eye, and she gently grasps it and clutches it close. Rises back to the surface. I watch her as she breaks, and takes a gulp of air. The moon lights her up like a pearl. And slowly, she swims back to shore._

_W h y ?_

_I only smile. "Why not?"_

  
  
  


Saving Data . . .

System Shutdown


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter to write cuz it introduces one of my fave characters! I hope you guys love her as much as I do, cuz we will be seeing a lot of her in future chapters.
> 
> Edit (3-8-2020): Edited the first couple chapters after noticing that I switched tenses a lot, along with some other minor things. Should make more sense now. Next chapter will be posted within the next couple of days :)

My hand was on my nightstand before I realized I was waking up. Snatching that pale blue notebook, I let my hand write absently as my head catches up with the program.

I'm done in a few minutes. Looking down, I realize I was drawing, not writing. On the page is a person, feminine, with long light hair drifting around her, as if she was underwater. Along the edge of the page is a necklace, maybe a locket, a silver circle with a monogrammed 'L'. I idly trace my fingertips around the chain. I remember the cool smoothness of holding it.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. Marcus texted me.

_ > I told Norah about what happened. She's giving you today and tomorrow off. _

I groan. I didn't want to stay home, with all the bad energy and paranoia.

_ < Okay, thanks for that. _

No spine, I tell myself. Grow one bitch.

I get up and throw a t-shirt on, walking to my bathroom to wash my face and fluff my hair. I come out feeling a bit more like a person. My room feels suffocating and heavy, so I open a window. Cool, crisp morning air settles around me. When that doesn't help, I grab a handful of sage and an incense and light it, placing them both in a glass dish on my dresser. Then I turn my laptop on. While it's booting up, I run downstairs to make breakfast.

After scavenging through our nearly empty fridge, I come up with 2 eggs, a carton of milk, and an unopened bag of green stuff. Maybe I can actually make an omelet this time, who knows. But I mess up again, stirring the eggs unsuccessfully and eventually just give up on trying to make a more professional meal. I flip my now scrambled eggs onto a paper plate and pour a glass of apple juice before retreating back upstairs and setting my food on my desk. 

My morning routine on off days was simple: check email and youtube for updates, and game for the rest of the day until plans pop up. My inbox is mostly full of spam.

"Delete, delete, delete . . ." I keep clicking down the line until I accidentally delete one I don't want to. It's the conversation with the guy who sold me the games. I look over at my N64 with the Zelda game still inserted. It almost felt like it was looking back at me. I open the email and send him another.

_Subject: Previous Game Purchase_

_Hey, did you per chance send me an bad game? The majora's mask copy glitches out a bit_.

Keep it simple and unassuming. Maybe it's not anything major and he can send another one?

"Worst comes to worse, I'll just keep you on my shelf." Walking over to it was uncomfortable, but I kneel anyway and stare it down. "It's not like you're evil anyway. Right?" It sits naively, a grey chunk in a black box. I shake my head, if I'm talking to it like it's gonna respond, then I must be going crazy. I reach my hand out to take it out of the console.

"Aah!" My arm reels back reflexively, a blinding jolt of pain ripping through my arm then fading, and I fall back into my bed frame. My whole hand feels tingly and hot, but especially the tips of my fingers, which I can't really feel at all. The damn thing shocked me! What the fuck??

A ping on my phone manages to pull me out of the literal shock. Feeling dazed, I manage to shoot it a nasty glare, before stumbling on to my feet and over to my nightstand. My phone pings again as I pick it up and unlock it. Its one of my friends, Delia.

_ > Haaaay babes. U available today :oo? _

I give one more glance at the game before replying.

_ < Sure am, wanna meet up? ; *_

Delia Hunt sits across from me in the booth and flips her strawberry blonde waves over her shoulder. Lined and shadowed eyes hungrily watch the counter where other people place their orders, as if staring will make them bring our food faster.

"Del, it's not gonna come out immediately," I huff out more as a laugh than a statement, and the way she puffs out her cheeks is too fuckin' adorable.

"But I'm hungry," she pouts, and I laugh.

"It's been 2 minutes hun." She fusses and sips her cherry coke before looking up at me and quirking her lips.

"I could'a swore you had work today? What happened?"

I wave my hand, "Nothing really, we were just a bit overstaffed and my boss thought I needed a break." Lying through my teeth again, I see. Well, maybe not entirely, I guess.

"That's nice of her," she mutters, playing with the buttons on my sleeves. A server glides past our table and sets a tray of food down. She lights up immediately and snatches her burger. "Oh this is so good . . ." She moans and takes a large bite. "Sho howsh your new game?" The food in her mouth warps her words.

"S'ok," I munch on some of her fries, "the console works great. One of the games is being a bitch."

"Uh ohh," she swallows and grins at me.

"Maybe you should come over and check it out, you've always had better luck than me with tech stuff."

Her eyes look up at me, "Is that an invitation?" Her voice dropped a note, warm brown eyes dark through her lashes. A jolt of warmth rushes through me.

"It might be," I bat my eyes at her, leaning on my arms to get closer. "Only if you want to though."

She smirks, then abruptly leans back, "Not tonight, my boyfriend is visiting and I don't wanna see him seeing me lookin' like a mess." She takes some fries.

Damn. I fall back into the booth and toe her leg under the table, "Tease." She only grins in return. "What about after?"

Her eyebrows waggle at me, "I like that thought." She winks, and I can't hide my little giggle under my breath.

"Anyways," she sets her hands on the table regally, like she's offering an important proposition. "Your game. What is it?"

"Majora's Mask," I sigh, stuffing more fries in my mouth. "I got it with a couple more from this guy's etsy store. It's probably just old."

"Maybe it's a bootleg or somethin," she nibbles on a fry absentmindedly. I watch the gears turn in her pretty head. "Those old games are coming back, so I wouldn't be surprised if someone tried to cash in for some extra change."

"God that would suck." To have a game I've longed for be a bootleg . . . My heart wrenches at the thought. At least it was only $5.

"Or," a snide grin snakes across her face, "maybe its cursed." I scoff. "Or haunted!" Her fingers waggle menacingly towards me.

"Yeah, okay so. I go onto someone's 'Retro Gaming Etsy Store' and pick up an ancient spirit trapped inside a children's game." She looks at me inquiringly. "I think somethin would've happened if that was the case babe."

"Hey, maybe something _did_ happen. And you just missed it cause you're a dum dum." She knocks on my head. I think back to the trail of water last night and shiver. "Intuition is only as perceptive as its witch, remember?"

"Yeah yeah, finish up your burger so we can go." 

She stuffs the rest of it in her mouth and grabs her bag. "Ready!"

Delia stood next to me, swinging my left arm back and forth as she looked over all the books. Her other hand had come up to tap her finger on her lip. She looked pretty sucked into the titles.

My 2 books, just manga to catch up on, hung in my hand. "Babe, you can get both, y'know."

"But if something happens, I won't have the money . . ." She trailed off. The probability of this 'something' happening was slim, but she likes to worry about random things. She turns to me suddenly, dropping my hand and holding both of hers up. "Pick one." I tap one and she grabs a book.

After that store we hit up a game store, and she fawns over all the new games. "Look they have a new kirby game!" Neither of us have a switch.

I steer her towards the playstation games and we pick a title to play together, but not co-op. Del is too competitive.

We leave the mall and drive downtown to a little metaphysical store, mostly for me. Del has never been here before.

Inside was packed with stuff. Glass shelves full of crystals and mineral formations, some up to hundreds of dollars. Bookshelves full of grimoires, tarot decks, and altar tools. Small statues of various deities. Delia walks up to one and admires her. "Who's this?"

She is made of pewter, and lovingly carved into a sitting position on a signpost. The face that stares back at us has blank eyes, the two on opposing sides younger then older. A raven sits perched on her knee. "That's Hecate. Hellenic goddess of witchcraft and crossroads."

"Why the three faces?"

"She is the aspect of the triple moon," I point to the youngest face, "Maiden," my finger follows them around, "Mother, and Crone."

She hums softly, eyes flitting over to another bronze statue and smiles. "Persephone."

She also sat on a column, with a pomegranate clutched delicately in her hands. I smile too, and leave her to the queen while I hunt down the stones and herbs I need.

On the drive home she speaks up again. "So why did you buy all of this?" She rifles through the brown paper bag of things.

"I've been experiencing," How do I put it? " . . . bad energy, I guess. I'm gonna replace some wards and cleanse the whole house properly."

She cringes, "Yeesh, that bad? Last time you did that it took a whole weekend." I shrug, and she looks at her hands sitting in her lap.

"Does it, y'know, actually work?" I glance over at her. I get questions like this a lot.

"To be honest, I don't really know. It's something mom passed down to me, she says some things can only be stopped with old magic. I don't know if I'm actually protecting us from harm, or if it's all nothing, or if it's even a placebo effect or whatever." I realize I'm twisting my ring on my hand and force myself to stop, firmly placing both hands on the wheel. "At this point, it's more of a comfort in the motion of it all, I guess."

She hums softly, pink lips pursed slightly in thought. Then she turns back to me. "Do you think, maybe, you could teach me how to do some of this stuff?"

I can feel my lips turn up slightly. I can't help it, but when she says it so softly. I'm too fond of her, "Of course."


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the new chapter! I'm a bit stuck on the next one. There might be a delay on it if I can't fix the issues I'm having with it.

After saging the shit out of the whole house, I go back upstairs to my room and pull the crystals I bought out of my bag. They're mostly quartz and obsidian, but also a couple tourmalines, a turquoise, and my special favorite, a small chip of moldavite. It barely fits in the cup of my hand, it's so small. When I hold it up in front of the window, it shines through a lovely bottle-green, the petals sculpted into it varying the hue. My new prized possession.

It goes into a small box in my drawer with all my other rocks. Some other day I will pull them out and charge them.

The game still sits in the console innocently. I glare at it before leaving my room. My mother walks in as soon as I sit down, and I spring back up to give her a hug, "How was work?"

"Hi," she sounds exhausted, "Slow as always. Doesn't make it easier sadly." She smiles at me. "How about pizza for dinner?"

"Sounds good to me, pineapple and chicken good for you?"

She hums and sits down on the couch. Buddy jumps up next to her and settles in her lap. "You been smoking? You need to share."

I stifle a laugh, "It's sage actually. Air smothered me this morning."

She tenses a bit. "Have you been getting headaches or anything?"

"No." I pull out my phone and dial the number to our local pizzeria. She sounds so serious when she asks things like that.

She relaxes a bit. "That's good." She's quiet while I place the order, only turning the tv on after I'm done, and switching the input. The first channel has static. So does the second. And the third?

"Do we need to fix the satellite again?" She mutters under her breath. For a moment I think I see a face in all the salt and pepper, before she gives up and changes it to netflix. The pizza arrives while we pick a movie and dig in.

"So, at some point this week, I think it would be a good time to visit Kate." I nod my head. Ever since they moved her into that new hospital, she's been getting better. More coherent. I still wish Mom would tell me what happened to her though.

"Maybe tomorrow," I chime in, "I'm off then too."

"Okay, we can take a lunch too. Hopefully she'll be up for eating it.”

She finishes up her food and throws her plate away. When the movie ends, it's already dark, and she's worn out, so we call it a night.

  
  
  


I can't sleep. My room is cold; the windows stayed open all day, and despite the warm late summer air drifting past the curtains, the heavy chill seems to linger around me. I've been lying in bed since I went to my room, figuring that I should still be a bit worn out from the scare last night. I’ve taken a melatonin pill, and made a cup of chamomile tea, hoping that they would knock me out. I looked at the clock an hour ago and it only said 1 am; yet for the life of me I just can't sleep. I turned to it again. 1:16.

Fuck my life. I shove the covers off and stumble to the bathroom to wash my face. When I come back, my tv is on, casting shadows on my walls with white static. I stare wide-eyed at it. Then the input jumps, and suddenly the Majora's Mask start up screen starts playing. The old warped music crackles through the speakers, enveloping my room in a mirage of nostalgia. I feel queasy.

Hesitantly, I sit down on my bed and grab the controller, pressing start. That save file stares back at me. I hesitate for a moment, but I have a feeling starting a new file would be pointless. It would just disappear again; the game has a mind of its own. So I select it. The save was almost completed, at least I wouldn't get stuck on the prologue again.

The game starts with a sweet little chime, almost as if everything was normal. It spawns me out in Termina field, some point during the second day. The music is chipper. So far, at least, it seems like all that mess never happened.  _ Maybe it was because I started a new save? _ Either way, the game runs as smooth as butter now.

I run around for a bit, and when night falls I go and do the forest temple. Boss goes down well and good, and with no glitches to see, I'm starting to wonder if I just dreamt up that first run. I return to Clocktown and stop.

There were no buildings. Kinda? Most everything is missing. Not like people or props, but entire buildings, portions of the walls, leaving only small posts and flower pots in the empty void left over. The rendered sky fills out with hazy colors. It's strangely beautiful, in the kind of way that feels like a fever dream. After a while, I realize the music had also cut out, and that the only thing I was listening to was the sound of Link's footsteps. But the silence isn't just an emptiness. It's like . . . the music was silence? It has an unnerving presence to it. I spend the time, just walking around and seeing the way the space changed so drastically; clambered up a set of invisible stairs to see the hollow shops and post office.

I want to think about it; want to think about how this could occur. Whether it was just a texture bug, a seriously messed up game, or something else entirely. But I know if I do, I would just spiral into all the possibilities, and then further into all the bad ones. I slide my phone off of my nightstand and scoot a bit closer to the tv to take a picture that fills the frame. As proof, I guess. That I'm not dreaming.

Eventually I turn the game off, not even bothering to save. I wouldn't be surprised if it did keep my progress though. Then I just sit in the dark for a while. Not really wanting to move. I need to sleep.

I crawl back under the blankets and close my eyes. Suddenly, I feel shifting at the foot of my bed. My head shoots up to see Buddy, alert and staring around my room. I forgot he was in here, he was so quiet. But now he's growling, snarling at something in the dark. It  _ still _ felt like something was here. I try to discern a figure from the shadows in my room; nothing else seems to be here with me. "Do you see somethin boy?" His head snaps towards me and his ears perk. He gets up and sniffs around a bit, still growling softly.

I trust his instincts more than mine. I grab my quilt and pillow and drag them behind me. The door opens with a creak, and I usher him out before closing it quietly and follow him out to the living room. The blanket and pillow are tossed on the couch and I crawl under them. Before long, he jumps up and curls up in the crook of my leg, head laying on my knee and facing the rest of the room. It's quiet, but I feel more alone out here, so it doesn't take me long to nod off.


	5. Five

"What in the world are you doing out here?" 

It sounds like my mother's voice. What's she doing in my room? I begin to roll over to escape her waking me up, but am stopped by a wall of sorts. My eyes crack open. A beige wall. A soft beige wal- oh yeah I slept on the couch last night. I crane my head around to her, the black cord on my amulet somehow not strangling me, and acknowledge her with a grunt. "Mornin?" My smile is sleepy and wobbles a bit.

She's wearing a worn t-shirt and sweatpants, and takes a long drink from her mug. Not coffee, neither of us drink it, but maybe some juice. I make grabby hands towards it. She rolls her eyes, but passes it to me for a sip.

Only after I drink do I speak. "Couldn't sleep in my bed last night. Nightmare, I think." I pass the mug back.

"You never get nightmares. Are you doing okay, you seem more tense lately?" She turns the tv on, and the morning news begins to drone softly in the background. A body was found the next city over; I'm not surprised, it's a bad place to be.

"Maybe it's because of that?" I offer, gesturing vaguely to the screen, "usually I don't care, but isn't this the third one they've found?"

"I think so," she finishes the mug with a pondering look on her face. "Maybe we should start practicing again."

What? "Ughh that's not what I meant." She gives me a cheeky smile. My legs are sore just from thinking about it.

"Fine, fine. But I do want to take you to a gun range. It'll be a good skill to have." I want to protest, but it's better than the endless months I've spent at a gym.

I turn back to the screen and sigh. "Okay." They're showing a sketch of the suspect now. Ugly dude, looks like a crazy. With that visage in our heads, the morning moves on. I warm up leftover pizza for breakfast and go upstairs to retrieve an old notebook to go through on the couch. I curl up next to mom and tab through the crinkled pages. Runes, casting circles, diagrams of herbs and chemical compositions flip past heavy blocks of fast handwriting. None of these are important right now. In the back of the notebook is a list of ingredients and tasks for a full protection of a home. I would have to treat and clean every threshold, rewrite runes underneath the floor mats of our main entrances, find all the spots of dull energy in the house and energize them.

"You think it's time already?" She's hovering over my shoulder and reading along with the script.

"I think so," I look at her to see if that was the correct response.

She nods, "You can never be too sure I guess. It's a lot of work, can you do it all on your own?"

"I can try, at least," I flip back through the pages of the ritual. At least 3 days of work, and that's if I do it all at once.

"If you need help let me know," she snatches a piece off of my plate. "All of our bulk bags of herbs are in the office. After breakfast, I'll call the hospital and see when the visiting hours open." I smile and lean my head on her shoulder, ritual forgotten. It's been weeks since we've seen Kate. I miss her hugs.

After breakfast, I go to the office and take the herbs I need up to my room. I pull the windows open wider and a cool morning breeze permeates the room. Something moves past my doorway, and I turn, expecting to see my mom or pup, but theres nothing there.

I stare at that spot. There was definitely something there, even if I couldn't tell what it was. A sort of shadow. I try to push it to the back of my mind, focus on my current task. What was that? 

After a beat, I pull out a bag of rosemary and begin to scoop a certain amount into a napkin, folding it when done and moving onto the next bag. The door creaks. My eyes dart up to it for just a moment, just enough to see nothing there. That doesn't bother me as much, most likely the wind.

The door swings a bit harder, and I whip around to catch it this time, only to see my pup peeking into the room. He sniffs around before trotting over to me and sitting, tail wagging expectantly. He's not behaving like last night, which is incredibly reassuring. When I kneel down, he hops up and puts his paws on my knee, and I scratch his ears.

"You'd tell me if there was something in here, right Buddy?" He tilts his head adorably, big brown eyes and floppy yellow ears perked. I guess that's a good enough answer.

"Aubrey, we're leaving in 30!" Right. The hospital.

"Okay!" My voice echoes down the stairwell. It's something I should be used to, but nothing feels normal anymore. My sweatpants are swapped for a pair of black pants, and I throw a jean jacket over my shirt. My hair is a mess, but that's not unusual. I run my hands through it a couple times just to make sure it's decent. I lace up my boots, grab my backpack, and head downstairs.

This hospital is much more comfortable than the last one. Instead of stark white walls and tiles, the waiting room has a dark green carpet and a high ceiling with wood paneling. Tall, lush house plants crowd a wall of windows that overlook the city; highways winding around glass buildings and old brick-and-mortar complexes. Still, even in the low light, surrounded by greenery, I hold my breath. My stomach feels tight and I keep my head down as nurses and doctors walk past. It's cold.

The woman at the information desk is flipping through a book, and every once in a while her eyes flick up to scan the room. Some weird instinct in me demands that I hide whenever she does; somehow I keep myself in my seat.

Even though I am smothered with a sense of unease, the hospital is comforting. Maybe it's the lingering smell of the drawing rainstorm mingling with the antiseptics, or the faint pinging of all the monitors down the halls. Either way, I could exist here, even with that watcher at the desk.

"Miss Hale?" My mother and I look up at a younger woman in blue scrubs standing before us with a clipboard. "Kate is ready for visitation now."

The walk passes by with a blur, though I have enough sense to remember the hallways we move through. Hospitals are mazes. Then we stop at a door. The nurse knocks, then opens it. Laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, is my aunt.

I feel so tense. "Kate!" She looks up just in time to catch me barreling into her. Her hands hesitantly settle around my shoulders as I snuggle into her shoulder. Her hair has gotten longer.

I feel her take a breath. "Aubrey?" My heart flips and I look at her. Her eyes are confused and searching, but they have more life than I've seen in a while. Something clicks and she runs a hand through my hair. "What are you doing here, kiddo?" Her words slur just a bit, but she smiles. I release a breath.

Mom is talking to the nurse, probably asking about Kate and how she's been. I don't care right now. She pulls me into an even tighter hug, something that envelops my whole body. Surprisingly she's not wearing one of those papery hospital gowns; instead she's got one of her old band t shirts that she's had for ages. The cotton has faded and worn, leaving a black softness that I run my hands through. "How've you been?" I look up at her, "Do you like it here?"

She nods, "I do. The food is way better than that garbage from the last one." She cringes hard and we laugh.

"That's good, but we brought even better food."

"Oh, what did you guys bring?" She lights up like a kid.

"Fried chicken, with soda." My mom holds the bag up as she replies, and Kate's eyes practically go to stars.

"Oh I love you guys."

We eat in her room, me curled up on the bed with her and mom sitting in the chair by the window. Some foreign soap opera is playing on the tv, and though we cant understand a word of what's going on, the acting is outlandish and dramatic and makes us laugh. When I glance over to my mom, she's looking at us with a strange fondness in her eyes. I can only smile back at her.


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uggh, yeah this is a month late ;;
> 
> Lets pretend I intentionally held this chapter back for BEN's birthday :)  
> Speaking of which, while he is still remaining lowkey, we will be seeing more of him real soon!
> 
> Also, while writing this, I made a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/49UJfkZLJw4a3cu9IlaXAf?si=bn6SWWkNRSKZb18YYvFhQQ) for this fic
> 
> Also, also: Some graphic violence and body horror in this chapter. If you want to skip it, its the very last thing, so stop reading when you get to the dream. Any ways, hope y'all like this chapter! It was a long time coming

_ Kate's hand shakes as she grasps my small one. Tugging me along through the trees. They're tall, stretching for what seems like forever above me into the pretty blue sky. _

_ "Redwoods," she mumbles, just loud enough for me to hear. Her dark hair drifts around her when she turns to face me, "Some of the tallest trees in the world." _

I was smaller then, coming up to only her hip. I don't remember where we were exactly, but it was when I still lived up in Oregon. Back home, where I was born.

The heat down here is oppressing, and the hospital courtyard barely catches a breeze. But it's still nice to sit in the sun when it's so cold inside.

Kate lays next to me, arms under her neck, eyes closed. If I didn't know better I would think she's asleep, but even though her eyes have been closed for many minutes, I know she's wide awake. Every once in a while, her eyelashes twitch, her hands shift slightly. Kate is a very light sleeper.

I drag my pencil across the paper as quietly as I can, even though I know she's already heard it. Long, light strokes trace down the length of the page. With every glance back to her, she unearths a bit more on to the page. I wonder if she knows I'm drawing her. Cameras make her uncomfortable, so this is the best way to keep pictures of her.

There's a sound of something crunching in the grass as my mom enters the little courtyard. She sits cross legged at our heads and glances between my notebook and the sleepy image of Kate. She smiles.

We sit in silence as I finish my sketch and bind my notebook back up. Then I roll onto my back and mimic Kate, arms under my head, eyes closed, soaking up the sun. The spotted warmth dappling across me is relaxing; for a moment I can forget about everything outside of this courtyard. All the strange occurrences that have been happening under my nose. At least I thought I could, yet here I am thinking about it again. I pointedly chase the idea away and try to focus on the light behind my eyes.

"We probably need to take you back inside," mom's voice breaks the silence, and I crack an eye open to see Kate pouting beside me.

She huffs pathetically, "Do we have to?" Mom laughs and ruffles both of our heads.

"Up, up. Before both of you fall asleep. I won't carry you two inside."

Kate's walk is stilted, and she leans on both of us slightly as she walks. At some point she leans over to me. "What did you write?" I flip open my notebook and skim to the page with her profile. She looks at it for a bit, then traces her hand up to my hair and ruffles it, resting her mouth on it. " 'S really good." I smile.

Before we leave for the day, mom steps out to talk to one of the nurses. Kate and I lie on the bed and flick through the TV channels as we wait.

"How's she holdin' up?"

I glance back at the closed door, "She's doing good. I think she's looking for another job."

Her eyes shoot up at that and she looks at me, "What makes you say that?"

"I've seen her looking online. She doesn't know that I know." I think she's tired of dealing with people, which is fair.

She hums softly, attention turning back to the TV. Interference stutters in the screen. "Just keep an eye on her for me. We've always watched out for each other, her more so than me," her eyes dart down to her hands. She looks almost mournful. "I owe her so much."

"You don't owe us anything. We watch out for each other because we love each other." I drop my head on her shoulder. When her head falls onto mine I smile. "We love you Kate. And we would do anything for you."

The door clicks open and mom walks back into the room. "Alright children, time to go."

Kate groans childishly, hands flinging up and shaking them at the ceiling. "In the middle of our show?"

"We weren't even watching it."

"Oh shush," she slides out of the bed and stumbles over to mom, slinging her arms around her shoulders. "I love you Lauren." And mom squeezes her tight.

"Love you too Kate."

  
  
  


My window was still cracked open when we got home. I drop my bag and close it, the warm late afternoon wind flying my curtains around me. One of them drifts around my shoulder, and with it comes the hazy feeling of static. I turn around, but nothing is there.

My room is empty. The console sits under my TV, controller strewn across the floor. My desk is scattered with papers underneath my laptop. My phone was flung onto my bed. I grab it and shoot Marcus a text.

< _ Please tell me I can come back to work tomorrow :(( _

It takes a few minutes.

> _ Yeah, I think ur closing. With me and Garret again _

_ < Tell him to lay off the puns please > < _

It pings again, but I don't bother and just toss it on my bed again.

  
  
  


“It’s a shame you took so long to come back . . .”

I suck in a breath.

“Please Garret, they just got back-”

“I mean, we could’ve had a disco party for you.”

I almost drop the stack of plates I’m carrying. Somewhere behind me, Marcus sputters.

“You, know-”

“Garret, please.”

“I found out there was a cornfield nearby.”

“Garret-”

“ _ Don’t.”  _ My voice comes out as a whispered growl and he bites down a snicker behind me.

“Please?”

I take a deep breath and resign myself to my fate. “One more only.”

The sound he makes is almost a wheeze, “Maybe that’s why you thought you were being stalked?”

Marcus bursts out laughing and I see red. I think Garret slams his hand on the counter but I can’t tell. “Fuck both of yall, I’m finishing the carts and you two can clean.” Thank god we’re closed already.

“W-wait Aub, I’m-” Garret dissolves into a fit of laughter on the counter and I muster up my cruelest glare to him. “Ah haha fuck, I’m sorry!” He looks up at me and slumps over again. I drop the stack on the counter and push the cart to the backroom.

Behind me, the doors swing open. “Aside from all of that mess, how are you doing?” Marcus stops by the doorway and leans onto the desk there.

“Better, I guess. Less jumpy.”

“Have you figured out what happened yet?”

I think about the game. How coincidental it is that everything started going crazy when I got it. How it shocked me, even, when I tried to pick it up.

“I . . . “ don’t want to say it really, but I don’t wanna hold it all in either. “I have a theory? But I don’t want to say too much without knowing anything for sure.”

“Can you give me a hint?”

I hold my breath, contemplating what I can say for sure. But there isn’t much. “I think it has to do with one of the games I got. Bad copy, or something like that.”

He hums softly, the way he does when he takes an idea and molds and pulls at it. Then he looks up at me. “Well, I hope you figure something out.” His voice is softer, reassuring.

I smile, “Thanks. I hope I do too.”

_ System Resume . . . _

_ unknown_user Login Successful! _

_ Downloading new files . . . _

_ Open new file?  _ _ Y _ _ N _

_ The ground was solid and hard against my shoulder blades. Dead grass scratched at my arms when I slowly moved them, pushing myself off the hard-packed earth. My arms felt weak. They shook under my weight. Slowly, I lifted one up and rubbed my eyes open. _

__

_ It was so dark out, the edges of my vision soaking in blackness, like the shadows were encroaching in on me. Just beyond the haze of my vision I heard footsteps. Then whispers. _

__

_ “He failed the task, what do we do?” _

__

_ “Shush!” _

__

_ The whispers faded out under a flurry of hushes and anxiety coiled thick in my stomach. I don’t know what I did wrong. My hair was wet, cold slimy water dripping down my forehead and cheeks. It had soaked through my shirt, making the material cling to my skin. Grass stabbed through the fabric, leavin itchy little pokes along my back. I tried to swipe my hands back to brush them off, but my frigid fingers missed all the spots. _

__

_ “What will he think of this? How can we show that we are loyal if we can’t even properly induct someone new?” _

__

_ “Be quiet!” _

__

_ The moon hovered above me, something I once found a comfort now seeming mocking. Like a scolding mother sneering down at my pitiful, shivering form. _

__

_ “I’m sorry . . .” I spoke with someone else’s voice. “I-I’m so so-sorry!” A hiccup bubbled up from my throat, hot and heavy, and more water dripped down my face. Cleaner water. My eyes burned. _

__

_ There was a soft crunch, and I jumped. By the edge of my vision was a person, with a stitched furry face. Large black eyes were locked onto me. Another appeared. Then another. _

__

_ I don’t want to be here anymore. _

__

_ “What the Father doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” One of the masks turned to another, dirty knees locked in place. _

__

_ “And you seem so devoted, maybe she wanted you to stay longer,” another one pipes up. They step forward, hands hidden behind their back. Something in my stomach flips, and I try to scoot away. _

__

_ The rest step up behind them, the one in the middle, and they move their hands from behind their back. In them is a mask, stitched with cracking leather, with hollow yellowing eyes. Matted red hair tangled in their hands as they held it up in full view. I almost gagged. It looked . . . so human, and yet . . . _

__

_ “Either way, we have to make use of you.” _

__

_ They started moving in. Closing in and surrounding me. _

__

_ “What are you guys doing?” My heart did little flips as another masked child pulled their hands and showed a needle and thread. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” _

__

_ Something snatched my wrists and I shrieked, desperately trying to rip my hands away. But they latched on tight and yanked, pinning me down into the hard ground as the one holding the mask straddled my legs. _

__

_ “Stop struggling! We’re trying to help you!” _

__

_ A cover of clouds shrouded the moon, casting deep shadows across their faces. Someone brought the needle to my face and I thrashed. “Please! Please stop!” _

__

_ “We’re out of her gaze now. Do it, quick!” _

__

_ The mask was smothered over me. My heart rate skyrocketed and I screamed. _

__

_ “PLEASE! PLEAse stOp pleASE!” My throat burns as I wail, vision blurring. The leather is wet, and reeks of something old. “STOP THIS STOP, STOP, STOP!!!” _

_ Something dug into my temple, burning with a stripe of hot white pain, and I shrieked even higher. Bile rose up in my throat and I thrashed and yanked and thrashed and yanked and  _ thrashed and  **yanked** .

__

_ “Ifrit, hold him!” A hand slammed down onto my chest and I choked. I slammed my legs into the ground over and over and over. Why are they doing this?! I didn’t want this!! _

__

_ “STOP HURTING ME!” _

__

_ Blinding fire ripped through my veins as it felt like my arms split open. The children shrieked and all the weight on me was suddenly gone. Arms free, I desperately tug at the covering on my face. My right eye and cheek was on fire. I ripped. _

__

_ The scream that ripped from my throat hurt almost as bad as my mutilated arms, but as my face tore I got the damn thing off! I threw it as far as I could. Far out past the ring of charred dead grass. Far out past the spiderwebbed bodies of the children around me. So far out of reach that even the moon’s rays could never find it. Then I broke. _

__

_ My arms were destroyed. Flesh had flayed from the bone, tendons split and the ends blackened. I could still feel the crackle of energy in my torn nerves. A drop of water fell onto them. And then another. _

__

_ Surrounded by the electrocuted bodies of my old friends, and lost in the rays of her moonlight, I wailed. _

_   
  
  
_

_ “ W a n t t o t r y a g a i n ? “ _

_ Saving Data . . . _

_ System Shutdown _

**Author's Note:**

> This is super duper self indulgent, but I wanted to post it anyway. Idk what i'm gonna do with Electric, I love it and still wanna try and write it but it's a mess right now, so I guess we'll see really. In the mean time, enjoy this fic; I've been writing it in whatever spare time I have just for fun but it's kinda turning into something now.


End file.
